Blinded by the Light
by Onyx Orchid
Summary: ON HIATUS - After the Triwizard Tournament Harry comes across information that disturbs him. His world is shaken by Voldemorts return, but even more so by the fact that he might not know who to trust anymore. Manipulative!Dumbledore, Dark!Harry, SLASH
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Many things in the first chapter are directly from the book, but I had to get the story started smoothly. Please don't flame me for it.

**Chapter 1**

The worst part for Harry was the silence.

The silence that fell across a room whenever he entered. The glares he could live with, and even the obvious whispers that followed, but the silence bothered him. The silence spoke volumes.

The cold stone floor beneath his feet would echo with each step he took.

A pang in his stomach reminded him that he would soon be forced to move to the Great Hall as he had not eaten in the two days he had been out of the Infirmary. He reluctantly pulled off his fathers cloak and made his way towards his destination. He had been wandering the halls for days. And when he could no longer escape jinxes and block the hexes he took to being invisible. That was how the preferred it.

He inwardly winced as the expected hush fell across the hallway. His eyes downcast his padded cautiously across the stone floors, from beneath his lashes for signs of aggression.

He did not even flinch when he was tripped. Did not even break his own fall when his face made impact with the floor and his nose cracked against the stone with a sickening sound. His vision blurred for a second before he started to pull himself up.

A flash of platinum hair at the corner of his eye told him he was not alone, but when he turned to look at what he knew was Draco Malfoy he did not find the usual sneer on his face nor was the glint of silver eyes directed at himself.

"Weasel.." it was spoken so softly that Harry almost did not hear it, but he closed his eyes briefly in acceptance.

Ron had not been to see him when he was in the Hospital Wing nor had his friend tried to speak with him. Harry already knew that Ron was difficult to handle, his jealousy and general nonacceptance of all things different was just a fact. Harry did not even have the strength to try and change his mind. He was resigned to the fact that his first friend in the student body was lost forever.

Malfoy was looking off to the side with a thoughtful look on his face before he turned and watched Harry pick himself off the ground.

As emerald met silver Harry was startled not to see a malicious glee at his pain, nor was he mocking him for the blood that slowly trickled from his broken nose. The blond seemed to be contemplating something as he tilted his head to the side, but said nothing. Harry tensed for a brief moment when the same blond searched for something in his pocked but was surprised when a handkerchief was stuffed into his hand with a curt nod before the Ice Prince of Slytherin turned and moved towards the Great Hall. Harry paused before pressing the cloth to his face, stopping the flow and tilted his head back for a moment.

Voldemort was back. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had off course not believed him, when he told his tale, and it had somehow leaked to the school that Harry was thought a liar by the Ministry.

They believed.. Harry sighed. He was not sure what they believed. Apparently Dumbledore had given a speech in the Great Hall, while Harry himself was confined to the Hospital Wing by Madam Pomfrey. He had requested that Harry be left alone and not asked questions. Most people avoided eye contact and steered clear of him, while others glared and whispered behind his back.

He had come to the conclusion that many of them had believed the article by Rita Skeeter, saying that he was disturbed and possibly dangerous. Perhaps they were creating their own theories about how Cedric's life had met its untimely end in the maze.

A quarter of an hour later when Harry entered the Hall the silence was there. It was deafening and he almost flinched when the sound of his quiet footsteps echoed once more.

His eyes flicked up and anyone who knew him would be able to see the pain in his eyes as everyone scrambled to make sure he would not have room to sit.

His body tensed tightly when a soft hand landed on each of his shoulders and he prepared for pain once more.

"Come on Harry.."

"..you look hungry."

Harry would know those voices anywhere and he sagged with relief when he was flanked and steered to a spot at the far end of the long table of red and gold. He found himself suddenly surrounded at the table, but it was familiar. Neville gave him a brief smile and Hermione reached cautiously over and twined her fingers with his. She searched his eyes for a moment then gave his hand a quick squeeze. Moments later his face and clothes were clean, his specks were no longer broken and the dull ache between his eyes was the only testimony to his impact with the stone floors. He briefly looked at the blood soaked cloth in his hand, tracing the Malfoy family crest embroidered on the front with his eyes before stuffing it in his pocket.

He had found that many were wary of his presence at the table of the red and gold and the cold glares from those he had seen as friends for years were startling but somehow not surprising. It was the same coldness that had seeped into them in second year when he was believed to be behind the attacks that cursed the grounds of Hogwarts.

In the next few days he did not speak much. There was no point. The teachers looked right through him and he was left mostly to his own devices. The constant presence of either the twins, Hermione or Neville was undemanding and comforting to his otherwise rattled nerves.

On the fifth night out of the infirmary Harry was walking mindlessly through the corridors. He could not sleep. His dreams were plagued with red eyes and an evil cackling laughter which chilled him to the bone. He was on a constant diet of Pepper-up potions and sugar that kept his legs moving, but his brain sluggish.

On this night however Harry heard something so chilling that even Voldemorts maniacal laughter could not rival.

He was about to turn a corner when he heard croaked whispers coming from down the corridor and he stopped, afraid he would be caught out of bed after curfew.

"I heard it myself. He said that the man had to go because he had started to suspect something. That is why he sent him away again. To hide from the Ministry but also to keep him away from the boy."

"What do you mean, away from the boy? I saw him in that room. He was the only reason that boy did not break down completely after that ordeal."

"That's why I suppose my old friend. 'The boy is getting too independent' he said. I do not know why, but he wants that poor lad broken. He was speaking to himself I think, or maybe the bird, but all I heard was that he wanted the boy to suffer, that he should be worshiping him like the hero he was for saving him. 'Muggles' he said, 'they are greedy enough to fit my plans'. Whatever he has planned, for this boy - I fear for him."

The conversation turned to other topics, but Harry could not move.

Harry stared with wide eyes into the dark corridors and chewed on his lip. This only gave him even more food for thought, and even less will to sleep. He did not want to believe what he had heard, but a voice at the back of his head told him to stop being naive.

Sirius.

He had sent him away on purpose: because he loved Harry and gave him strength.

Harry licked his lips nervously and made his way back to the Tower deep in thought.

He had always known that the Headmaster only served his own purposes, or the greater good, but now he was even more nervous. How could it be?

He knew from Sirius that you should not trust anyone completely and he had never trusted the man who ran the school. His ever twinkling eyes and benevolent grandfatherly act had never fooled him, but he had always honestly thought he should give him most of his trust. Now he was not so sure anymore.

If he was to be trusted, then why did he not help him in his misery?

Harry had started wandering the halls at night, concealed in his fathers cloak to think, but also for other reasons. His dorm mates, Neville not included, had taken to attacking him when he was sleeping and he had not yet found a locking charm strong enough for his bed curtains to keep them away from him in his most vulnerable state.

Harry was starting to lose hope that he would get through this in one piece and he could hardly breathe with all the thoughts churning in his head.

Meanwhile, the twins had been watching him. They watched him crawl into himself as time grew closer to summer break and the darkness in his eyes; the drowsy and lethargic waif their friend and brother of anything but blood was turning into.

The day before break they took it upon themselves to take care of him. He was theirs after all.

"Harry.." they quietly got his attention and he was startled out of his musings by twin hands gently landing on his back.

"How do you always know where I am..?" he asked, a small smile tugging on his lips as he removed the cloak.

"I don't know.."

"..how do you always know which is Forge.."

"..and which is Gred?"

"It's a gift!" They finished together with bright smiles as they wrapped possessive arms around his middle and shoulders.

Harry sagged in delight and buried his face in George's robe, a small sigh escaping his lips. "What can I help you with my twins?"

Fred and George smiled softly and tightened their hold on Harry before steering him in the direction of the Tower.

"Nothing Harry.." Said Fred as he kissed the top of Harry head so softly the raven haired boy hardly felt it.

"We can do something for you." the mirror image said before giving the password to the Fat Lady.

Harry was directed to the sixth year dorms and placed on a bed. He was silenced with a look and a smile as Fred pulled off his shoes.

"Sleep Harry.." said George as he gently pushed Harry back, emerald eyes struggling to stay open. "We will watch over you." Fred finished before pulling himself into the bed and gently taking Harry into his arms.

Green eyes did not open till the next morning. Harry never heard the hushed whispers they spoke in before they turned in as well, nor did he feel the soft kisses on his hair before the matching pair themselves fell into a deep slumber.

Harry awoke in a way most foreign to him. He felt warm, safe and loved for the first time in his life. Prying his eyes open they fell upon a chock of bright red hair on either side of him and he smiled softly.

His twins.

Harry felt more rested than he had in a long time and as he stretched they stirred on either side of him. "..'arry?"

"Schhh.. Go back to sleep Fred. I'm just going to take a shower."

Harry climbed out of bed, mindful of the limbs packed into the small space. He slipped into the shower room and sagged in relief finding it empty.

Emerging freshly showered from the bathroom he smiled softly at the sight before him. The twins had curled up around each other, Fred's head tucked underneath George's chin, their legs tangled and arms around each other. Harry pulled the curtains around the bed, pulled his wand and cast a quick silencing charm, before calling for Dobby.

The house elf agreed excitedly to fetch breakfast for "Mister Harry Potter and the Matching Weezies" and returned to the kitchens with a soft pop.

Harry grinned as he pulled the curtains back and climbed back into bed. "Gred, Forge.." he whispered softly, putting a hand on each of their hips. Said hands were grabbed and he was pulled into the waiting arms of mirror redheads.

"Morning Harry.."

"..where did you sneak off too.."

"..darling brother?" they finished together.

The question was answered when Dobby returned with a mountain of food which he was thanked for with bright smiles and a ruffle on the head, making the elf flush with pleasure.

After breakfast the twins informed Harry that Mrs. Weasley had been with Dumbledore before she left for home. She had apparently asked if Harry could come straight to the Burrow that summer, but had been told that Harry had to stay with the Dursley's at least at first. Neither Fred nor George knew the reason why, but Harry decided to head straight to the Headmasters office when he got the chance and after further thought he decided to go and wait for him after the feast.

Making his way up the revolving staircase he wondered inwardly if this was a very good idea. Maybe staying away from the old man was a better idea. He stumbled into the office and looked around at the wide array of things making all kinds of noise and colors sparkling and shooting in all directions. He smiled gently at Fawkes and made his way over, his hands stroking his soft warm feathers. He could tell the creature was having a good day, thankfully. His plumage was bright and healthy looking and was radiating a gentle heat that was calming under Harry's digits. The bird thrilled in welcome and affection, ducking its head to rub against Harry's cheek. He smiled and stroked his head as he thought about the conversation he overheard.

Sirius.

He was brought out of his musings by a gentle throat clearing. Harry started, thinking Dumbledore had returned but chuckled at himself when his gaze fell upon the Sorting Hat sitting atop a cupboard. A large tear in the opened wide like a mouth just as it had last September, but this time it did not break into song.

"Who's there, eh? Albus?"

"No, sir. It's Harry. Harry Potter."

"Ah, Potter. I remember you. You were difficult. Very difficult to place. Lots of courage and a good solid mind. I still say you could have been great in Slytherin. Not the first one in your house to talk me out of Slytherin either you know."

"Really? May I ask? Is it rude to ask who it was?"

"Yes, yes, it rather is, but seeing as I have an ulterior motive in talking to you I shall tell you. Weasley. The young girl and the twin boys. I tell you. The minds and ambition in those two boys. And the cunning of the youngest." The hat tuttered. "It was a shame. They could truly have been great snakes, but their fear and their self-preservation kept them from taking the spot there."

"What do you mean 'ulterior motive', sir?"

"Such a polite lad. You need to watch out for yourself. I have heard things, grave things in this office that would chill you. I know it made my stitchings go loose when I heard it. You mustn't go to your muggle relatives. They mean you harm lad, great harm. Do not tell the Headmaster I have warned you. He is a great man, but he has no scruples when it comes to what he calls 'the greater good'. I know all of his secrets lad. Come to me when you can and I shall help you. Do not look into his eyes boy, he will see all. Do not trust him."

Harry was about to ask further questions when the door was opened.

"Harry my boy. What can I help you with? Did you have a nice dinner?"

Harry looked towards the old man, but kept his gaze carefully on the door. He promised himself to take the Hat's advise. It might have just been a piece of cloth, but it was created by the founders themselves. It contained wisdom, and knowledge. Knowledge that just might be crucial to Harry.

"Yes, it was lovely Professor. I just came because I had a question. Is there a reason why I cannot stay with the Weasley's. Surely they are warded against danger with as many people living there?" Harry took a deep breath and prepared for Dumbledore's speech about blood protection.

He had not forgotten the look in the Headmaster's eyes when he had told him and Sirius about the restoration of Voldemort. The blood spilled and how the Dark Lord could now touch him. He had not thought of it since, but now it made him pause.

As expected he was told that the sacrifice his mother made was what kept him safe. Harry tuned the speech out for a moment and thought about his wand. If they knew Voldemort had a brother wand, how could such a thing be allowed to still be? A wand that could not battle Voldemort. No matter who had it, it would be unwise.

He parted with the old man, the twinkle in his eye starting to slightly annoy him, and made his way through the corridors once more. He pulled his cloak out from his robes and prepared for yet another restless night.

The Leaving feast was as dreadful as he had imagined. The usually joyous occasion was overshadowed by the black drapes behind the Staff Table, the heartbroken expressions on the faces of Cedric's house mates and the solemnity of teachers.

Harry was placed in his accustomed seat between the twins, his head bowed low as he tried to calm his churning stomach with tiny sips of pumpkin juice. He thought of Minister Fudge and the way he had looked at Harry as if he had made up the return of Voldemort just to spite him. Harry knew that it would cause an uproar in the Wizarding world and Fudge would rather point his finger at a 14 year old boy than succumb to the fact that his world and the world he was the leader of would once again be plunged into darkness.

Harry's musings were cut short when a hush was brought across the room. Harry lifted his head and looked to the Head Table just as the Headmaster rose.

"The end," said Dumbledore, as his gaze moved around the room, "of another year." His eyes made another travel across the room and paused on the Hufflepuff table. They were the most pale and subdued bunch in the room and their sadness was palpable.

They had lost a member, a friend.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," Dumbledore continued, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he said as he gestured toward the table of yellow and black, one color fitting, the other quite out of place for the occasion, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory." The room rose as one, each table with their goblets raised as they spoke the name of their fallen classmate."Cedric Diggory."

Harry caught sight of Cho through the throngs of anguished Hufflepuffs and suddenly felt nothing but sadness for the pretty girl. She had tears streaming down her face as she obviously struggled to speak the name of her departed love. He lowered his gaze to the table again and took a deep breath. He smiled gratefully when he felt the warm comforting hand of Fred Weasley land on his shoulder blade.

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about." Harry took a deep breath and prepared for the inevitable gasp of horror.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

A whisper of panicked gasps and whimpers swept through the Great Hall and people were dumbly staring at Dumbledore in a mixture of disbelief and horror. The Headmaster looked nothing like a man who had just given a message of doom to a hall full of under aged wizards and witches. Quite the contrary. He looked perfectly at ease and calm as he waited for the murmurs and whispers to calm down.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

Every set of eyes was wide in disbelief and turned to the Headmaster now, or as it turned out, almost every one. Harry caught sight of Draco Malfoy muttering something to Blaise Zabini, a quiet boy who reminded Harry of Hermione in many ways. Malfoy turned his head and locked eyes with Harry across the Hall. He gave an almost invisible incline of his head and turned n towards the Staff Table.

Harry was confused, yet he felt as if a tentative truce had been formed. He did not know what brought it on, but he welcomed it none the less. For some reason he did not feel that the rivalry between him and the blond was of any importance after what had come about. He once again forced his attention to Dumbledore.

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedrics death," Dumbledore went on. Harry raised his head and stared at horrified at Dumbledore. He tried to silently beg with his eyes, but could not catch the gaze of the Headmaster, who seemed intent on making his point.

"I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."

The noise of hisses and whispers crossed the Great Hall, most of them coming from his own table, as all heads turned in the direction of Harry's corner of the room. He whimpered softly and ducked his head. A set of warm hands landed on his knees from either side and as he looked across the table he was met with the kind and reassuring gazes of Neville and Hermione in front of him.

"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him." The hisses became louder, yet no one had the courage to give true voice to what they were all thinking. Dumbledore turned to Harry with a grave expression and raised his goblet once more.

Dumbledore went on to talk about the importance of the magical understanding and friendship that was the point of the tournament, but Harry tuned out the Headmaster as he mentally mourned his coming summer. The warning from the Sorting Hat alarmed him slightly, but there was nothing he could do about it. Sirius was on the run again, and he had no way to get into contact with him before the trip to his relatives' home.

Harry and his group was seated in the corner of the entrance hall with the rest of the students waiting for the carriages that would return them to Hogsmeade station. His trunk was packed, his possessions spelled with protective charms and it was spelled to be locked to anyone but himself. Hedwig was out on the grounds, enjoying the last bit of fresh air and exercise she would get for a long time, if Harry knew his Uncle Vernon correctly.

The beautiful weather did nothing to cheer him up, as it just reminded him that the only way he would be outside in the sun would be working in the garden weeding, painting the woodwork or unclogging the rain gutters. Harry sighed and ran his hands through his already unruly hair and closed his eyes. He tilted his head up and tried to enjoy the rays of sun on his skin soaking it up; much like Hedwig he was enjoying her last moments of freedom.

"'Arry!"

He looked around for the source of the outburst and saw Fleur Delacour hurrying towards him up the stone steps. "We will see each uzzer again, I 'ope," said Fleur came to a stop in front of him. "I am 'oping to get a job 'ere, to improve my Eenglish."

Harry smiled and took her hand, giving it a quick squeeze. The beautiful blond gave him a bright smile and waved as she hurried towards the Beauxbatons carriage. "Good-bye, 'Arry," shouted Fleur, turning her head over her shoulder. "It 'az been a pleasure meeting you!"

Harry's spirits lifted slightly watching Fleur running across the grounds.

He had a similar conversation with Viktor Krum who spoke to him in a hushed tone. "I knov vhat you did Harry. I knov people are treating you badly, but I knov better. Both you and Diggory vere alvays nice to me. Alvays. Even though I vos from Durmstrang. Thank you." he whispered in his gruff voice. They spoke about the tournament for a few moments and in the end Harry and Krum shook hands and Hermione gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and promised to write before he nodded in parting and trudged away.

Harry watched the vessels of the foreign schools leave and started towards the horseless carriages with Hermione and Neville, talking about the upcoming OWL's. Hermione was, as usual, worried that they would all not be suitably prepared, but Harry soothed her worries with reminders that she had spent hours in the library studying and that he would write her over the summer.

Harry stumbled slightly when he was harshly bumped on the shoulder and when he looked up he saw Ron, Dean and Seamus walking away from him. Ron turned his head and sneered at him across his shoulder and Harry thought they eerily resembled Malfoy and his cronies Crabbe and Goyle. He shuddered in spite of the heat of the sun.

The journey back to King's Cross was a quiet affair. Hermione, Neville and Harry had managed to get a a compartment to themselves. Hedwig was dozing in her cage, her head under her wing, Neville's toad was nowhere in sight as usual and Crookshanks was curled up on the seat, a soft purring erupting from him at intervals.

It was pleasant.

They all talked freely about the coming summer and the new term that would follow. They did not speak of Cedric, Dumbledore or Voldemort and stuck to easy subjects, only stopping with the arrival of the lunch trolley.

Hermione went to the trolley and when she returned she pulled out a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ from her bag. Harry was slightly afraid of what might be plastered across the front page.

Hermione soothed him and informed him that nothing was written about him, other than a small notice about him winning the tournament, telling them of her suspicions that the Minister was keeping it quiet.

"He'll never keep Rita quiet," Harry mournfully whispered. "Not on a story like this."

A slight smirk slipped across Hermione's face and she proceeded to happily tell them of her suspicions and later confirmation of Rita Skeeter's status as an unregistered animagus. As she was speaking she pulled a glass jar from her bag, which contained a few leaves and a large fat beetle, who was buzzing angrily inside.

"I've told her I'll let her out when we get back to London," said Hermione. "I've put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can't transform. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people." Harry took his best friends hand and squeezed it as Neville was looking at the jar with an oddly thoughtful look on his face. "Divination class" he said suddenly, "that explains so much."

Hermione smiled serenely and stuffed the beetle back inside her schoolbag. The door of the compartment slid open admitting three redheads. "Very Clever 'Mione.."

"..we always knew you were.."

"..the brightest witch of your time." The twins finished together with a bright grin.

Ginny perched herself next to Neville and they started talking about what Hermione had just told them. Ginny looked appalled and shook her head, her hands shaking slightly as if itching to get her hands on the beetle packed inside the bag beside her on the seat.

Harry pulled Fred and George out of the compartment and into the hall. He looked up into curious blue eyes and smiled softly at his twins. He stuffed his hand inside his robes and pulled out his Triwizard winnings.

"Take it," he said, thrusting the sack into George's hands.

"What?" said Fred, looking even more confused.

"Take it," Harry repeated in a firm tone. "I don't want it."

"You're mental," said George, trying to gently push it back into Harry's hands.

"No, I'm not," said Harry. "You take it, and get inventing. It's for the joke shop."

"He_ is _mental," Fred said as he looked at his friend with awe.

"Listen," said Harry as he pushed the sack into George hands yet again, forcing the boys fingers to curl around it. "If you don't take it, I'm throwing it down the drain. I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I've got a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long."

"Harry," said George in a soft voice as he looked at the money bag in his hands, "there's got to be a thousand Galleons in here."

"Yeah," said Harry with a soft smile. "Think how many Canary Creams that is."

The twins just stood there and stared at him for a moment.

"Just don't tell your mum where you got it… although she might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry anymore, come to think of it…"

"Harry," Fred tried yet again to argue, but Harry pulled his wand from his robes.

"Look," he said in a soft voice, "take it, or I'll hex you. I know some good ones now." He grinned weakly as he was enveloped in a tight hug from both sides.

A harsh voice broke their hug and Harry spun just in time to dodge a blow aimed at him from a fuming redhead. "Not enough that you get Cedric killed, but now you're threatening my family?"

Ron, whose face was almost the exact shade of red as his hair was obviously ignoring the loving hug his brothers had just given his former friend.

Dean and Seamus were standing behind him, all three looking arrogant and menacing in a way he had never seen before. Harry shivered delicately as Ron advanced on him with a leer. "You can't run away now Potter. We all know what you are now." Harry was gripping his wand tightly under his robes as he fought to keep himself under control.

Harry saw the compartment door open out of the corner of his eye and closed his eyes tightly as his vision dimmed and his ears started ringing. He felt hot breath on his face and whimpered slightly when Ron spoke again.

"You're a murderer Potter. A freak."

Harry looked down at the floor as he was blinded by the blaze of spells blasting from every direction, the bangs and thuds of the three offenders landing heavily on the floor startling him. He blinked and saw Ron, Dean and Seamus lying unconscious in the hall.

"I followed them to see what they were up to." said a soft voice in front of Harry. He lifted his gaze only to be met with the silver orbs of his one-time rival. Malfoy sneered at the three Gryffindors on the floor.

"I warned you," Malfoy said."I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this." He took a breath through his nose and looked a Harry again with a smirk. He gave George and Fred a polite nod and breezed towards the front of the train in a manner that would have made his father proud.

Everyone was stunned by the assistance of the Slytherin, but Harry was grateful. It confirmed his theory that they had indeed come to some sort of truce. As they stepped into the compartment once again Harry pointedly ignored the fact that the twins were very careful to step on their house mates, especially Ron.

It seemed every member of the party had used a different hex and it was evident by the looks of the unconscious Gryffindors.

"Interesting effect," said George, as he looked down at Dean. "Who used the Furnunculus Curse?"

"Me," said Neville, his soft voice merely a whisper in the compartment.

"Odd," said George in a cheery tone. "I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor."

The twins, with the help of Neville, kicked, rolled and pushed the unconscious Dean, Seamus and Ron – each with a colorful appearance of hex marks and blisters from the jumble of jinxes and hexes they were hit with - into the next compartment and sealed with a locking and silencing charm.

Fred grinned as he pulled the door shut to their own compartment. "Exploding Snap, anyone?"

They played a few games and George and Fred told them all of Bagman. They cheerily informed everyone that their business was on track once again and pleaded with Ginny not to tell their mum. She merely smirked and told them that she would keep quiet if they would promise her only to use Ron to as a test subject from now on.

George smirked and shook his sisters hand, promising to keep her out of the testing stage.

It was a pleasant journey from then on, pushing Harry's nerves and any thought of Sirius and Dumbledore from his mind. Even with the presence of Ron, Harry wished it could have gone on for the rest of the summer: he could have gone to the Burrow.

Experience had taught him however, that the harder you wish to avoid something, the quicker and more persistently it arrives. All too soon, the Hogwarts Express pulled into platform nine and three-quarters at Kings Cross station and the tumble and bustle of students started to fill the train as people grabbed their trunks, animal cages and some changed into muggle clothing. The twins grinned as they banged on the compartment next to theirs and decided to act ignorant as to were the three Gryffindors had gone off to.

Passing through the barrier Harry caught sight of Uncle Vernon waiting just beyond. Mrs Weasley looking on with confusion as she noticed only three of her children stepping out, but quickly turned to Harry with a hug, telling him to keep in touch.

He was hugged tightly by Ginny and Hermione, the latter giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. The twins ruffled his hair and winked while Neville gave him a shy wave. Harry sighed watching the Weasley family conversing, Neville being dragged off by his grandmother and even a flash of silvery blond hair caught the edge of his vision before he squared his shoulders and faced the inevitable: his Uncle's angry, purple face.

He was grabbed roughly in a grip he knew would soon turn into an angry bruise and was dragged towards the Dursley family. He struggled to keep his trunk in his hand and Hedwig hooted softly in reassurance as she was thrashed back and forth by the movement. He was brought to a stop by a hand on his shoulder and Vernon hissed at him "Hurry up boy! Or you'll be walking!"

Harry turned his head and was yet again met with the soft blue eyes of Fred and George. "Harry - thanks," George softly muttered as he watched Mr. Dursley with something like revolt, while Fred nodded beside him. "We'll be in touch, eh?"

Harry winked at them with a soft smile and turned yet again to Uncle Vernon, this time following him silently and obediently from the station. He tried not to think too much when he stepped into the back of the Dursleys' car. He had faced worse things than Vernon Dursley's wrath on numerous occasions.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

It was going to be a very long summer. Harry could tell when he saw the glint in his Uncle Vernon's eyes, that this was going to truly be a summer to rival all others. After all of the horrific things that had happened over the year; the tournament, Cedric's death and the return of Voldemort, not even counting the things he had overheard, Harry thought he could use the quiet of yard work and cooking for his relatives. But somehow he knew it was not going to be that easy this year.

Harry knew better than anyone that the Dursley's hated him. In their eyes he was a freak. He represented everything abnormal and mysterious – a shadow on their otherwise quiet and normal lives in Surrey.

They feared and loathed him, and if Harry was being honest with himself, the feeling was mutual.

He had asked questions in the beginning, but Dumbledore had only given him the same speech as always and when he told him of the abuse it was waved off. 'Off course they love you Harry. Surely it's not as bad as that. You'll have a lovely summer Harry.' Harry inwardly snorted and looked at his Uncle out of the corner of his eye. Lovely summer indeed. At best it would be lonely and awkward and at worst he would be miserable and in pain. He did not feel like he could handle any more at that moment. He had plenty of other things to worry about.

The nightmares were one thing; terrifying and chilling, bringing silent tears to his eyes, but the hatred in Ron's eyes, the conversation he overheard in the hallway that night, and the information from the Sorting Hat in the Headmaster's office was enough to make him scream. He felt like his head would explode with all the thoughts spiralling around.

Silently he wondered if he should not just have gone with his first instinct and run away, perhaps gone to Hermione's house or even Neville's. But then he remembered that Dumbledore was a highly respected wizard and the community looked upon him for guidance. Surely anyone would have sent word to the Headmaster and he would have gone to his so-called family in the end.

Even his idea to go to Gringotts and withdrawing money was an idea that had no way of succeeding, since Mrs Weasley still had his vault key.

He would just have to get through yet another summer and hope for the best, despite his instincts screaming at him to run for cover, to yell, to tell someone.

Harry tried to calm himself, focusing on the sun shinning through the window of the car, the soft cooing of Hedwig next to him and the bright colours of summer outside.

He was rudely pulled from his thoughts, when the car door was ripped open and he was pulled out. His trunk and Hedwig was pulled away from him and his protests stopped with a swift kick to the side. Harry wrapped his arms around himself and looked around the garage, trying to figure out what had just happened, but he knew better than to ask questions by now.

A bruising grip on his arm and he was pulled inside, his Uncle muttering something harshly under his breath. He was dropped unceremoniously on the floor of the hallway and he received a few more kicks to the ribs in greeting before being thrown into the cupboard under the stairs. Everything was back to normal it seemed.

Lovely summer.

The next morning he was awakened by the door to the cupboard being slammed open. Harry sat up and groped for his glasses quickly without taking his eyes off the blurred figure of his raging uncle.

Just as Harry managed to slip his glasses on he was slapped across the face and grabbed forcibly by the arms. The menacing hulk of a man leaned down and snarled, so close to his face, that spittle covered Harry's glasses. "Boy! Why aren't you up fixing breakfast and doing chores."

"Because you locked me in Sir. I couldn't get out." Wrong answer. Harry knew just as soon as the words left his lips and he tensed for the inevitable.

Uncle Vernon's face turned purple with rage and he grabbed Harry by the front of his too large shirt and dragged him into the kitchen, hurling him against the tabletop. Harry stumbled and cracked his head against the granite, his vision blurring badly as his glasses were flung off his face. He knew not to argue and set about the task of fixing breakfast to the family.

This went on for weeks. Harry's ribs were surely cracked or broken and his arms were an angry purple at all times. His glasses were nowhere to be found but Harry suspected Dudley had come across them and took them as a trophy after one of the many rounds of Harry hunting he had gone through in the first weeks of summer.

After three weeks of this Harry begged his aunt Petunia to at least be allowed to write his friends. He promised she could read the letters before they were sent in order to calm her nerves. Uncle Vernon's actions had disturbed her more than usual and she had started leaving the house more often to escape him. She relented after a while and allowed him to bring the owl into the basement, giving him a pen and paper to write a quick note to his "freak friends".

Harry thanked Petunia and allowed himself to relax a little. No matter how spiteful the woman was, her heart had not completely frozen over.

Harry slipped his hand into the cage and stroked his snowy owl. "I'm sorry girl. I wish you could go outside." She nipped his finger affectionately and he knew he was forgiven.

He started writing a note to the twins, telling them that he was still alive and he could not wait for the next term to start. He gushed about Quidditch and how he just knew they would win the Cup next year. He was so involved in his letter than he did not notice someone entering the room

"What are you doing boy?" Vernon's bellowed loudly and grabbed Harry by the shirt. Hedwig woke with a loud squawk of protest and starting cooing and screeching inside her cage. Vernon's large hand knocked against the cage, flinging it across the room, making Hedwig even louder in the process.

"I asked you a question boy! What are you doing? That bird is to be locked away."

Harry swallowed. He knew this would end badly. Uncle Vernon's abuse had changed drastically from a slap or two when he was a child, along with verbal insults, to full on beatings and broken bones. "Aunt Petunia gave me permission Sir. She allowed me to write one letter to my friends."

Vernon snorted. "Friends? Who would want to be friends with a freak like you, boy? You're a miserable little piece of filth, who shouldn't be allowed around normal folks like us. You should have stayed were you were boy. You should have died along with your good for nothing parents."

Harry made a soft sound of protest, but that was enough. A large fist collided with his face, his nose cracking and blood began flowing freely. The impact caused Harry's head to snap backwards and his skull cracked against the wall. His dazed mind did not allow him to respond when Uncle Vernon shouted something about freaks and respect, which only landed him yet another blow to the head. He tried to stumble towards the stairs, but was grabbed by the ankle, landing him face first on the steps, his forehead taking the blunt of the impact.

His world was pain after that.

Time went on, but the only breaks in the constant darkness and pain were the times when his Uncle and Dudley went upstairs to eat or sleep. He curled in on himself to support his broken ribs every night, but the pain was always there.

The surprise was his aunt. She would slip into the basement at night, giving him small doses of painkillers and water, slipping food into his mouth. She whispered apologies each night and on more than one occasion he would feel moisture dripping on his face.

She was afraid. Afraid for herself and for Harry.

On some level Harry knew that she needed the comfort as much as he did, but he had screamed his throat sore and his vision was only blurs and movement. Perhaps this was how he was to die. Not in a great battle against the ultimate evil, but in a basement, beaten and covered in his own blood.

He mourned for his friends, that would never know what happened to him. He did not even know if his precious owl was still alive.

After the first three weeks he found that the beatings were not the worst. It was when he was held down by large meaty hands and his innocence was taken from him that he finally gave up. He just closed his eyes and forced himself to pass out.

Darkness. It was comforting, darkness gave peace.

George and Fred were excited.

They had just gone to the Ministry for their Apparations test and passed on the first try and they had decided to go and visit their Harry. Over the last month they had received many owls from friends, but never that snowy owl they were hoping for.

Weighed down by food, sweets and books from Hermione they appeared at the edge of Privet drive and started making their way towards number 4. They cheerily spoke of the last time they were there. Harry bright face when he was rescued, the plumb colour the large man had on his face when he saw the flying car escaping from the home. They giggled in unison and broke into a faster pace.

They could not wait to see Harry's face when he saw them.

They rang the doorbell and looked around waiting. The yard was perfectly landscaped and looked like a shinning beacon of normalcy. How anyone could live like that was beyond them. They loved the Burrow and the oddities within. Even the ghoul in the attic was fun and it always appreciated the hustle and bustle from their own room, giving them salutes of banging on the pipes.

The door opened and a large whale of a boy stood before them. They remembered this muggle, but he seemed to have gotten even larger and more menacing looking since they last came across him. They smirked remembering how their test with the Ton-Tongue Toffee had gone. Smashing!

The whale paled slightly before squaring his shoulders. "What do you freaks want?"

"We came.." Fred began

"..to see Harry" George concluded before starting to push the boy aside.

"You can't see the freak. He is busy." snarled Dudley, before starting to close the door. Fred slipped his foot in to stop the movement and braced himself against the frame. "Off course we can. We wont.."

"..take no for an answer."

The whale started struggling with the door, but came to a complete stop with a large crash. He stumbled and fell to the floor, almost knocking Fred with him.

"Please help him." A small voice brought their attention to the inside, finding a tall thin horse-like woman standing behind the mountain of her son on the floor. She was holding a rolling pin in her hand, which she had obviously just swung at her sons head.

"You can help him. You are like him. Please. I have tried, but I can't. I have done what I can, but I can't help him more. Please."

The woman was babbling and starting to sob and Fred looked at his twin, a silent conversation slipped between them before he gently took the woman's arm and brought her inside to sit down. George levitated the large boy away from the door and closed it.

"Where is Harry?"

The woman pointed to the basement door and a large crash brought the twins into action. They quickly ran to the door, ripping it open and bounding down the stairs.

What they came upon would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

Harry lying in a puddle of his own blood, his eyes open and vacant, a large man standing over him with his belt tying the small boys hands behind his back. His pants were unzipped and he was fisting his thick member to hardness. The man was snarling at Harry. "Freak, good for nothing boy. This is what you are good for. Whore. You should have died with them. Bringing this evil abomination to my peaceful home."

"_Stupefy_!"

The man fell backwards and crashed through a table. They both moved to Harry, flinging themselves on their knees. George untied Harry hands as Fred checked for signs of life. He gasped in a breath as he felt the faint stutters of a pulse, but he knew they were slight on time.

Fred was hardly thinking when he broke from his brother, running up the stairs and through the hall. He quickly stunned the whale at the door, who was starting to stir slightly and ran to the edge of Privet drive for Mrs Figgs house. He knew she was a squib, but also connected to the floo network. He crashed through the door, not even pausing and grabbed the powder on the mantel, shouting "Hogwarts, Snape's quarters!"

He stuck his head through and shouted for his Potions professor, not even bothering to think about how much the greasy man was hated or how much he would resent helping his friend. He needed him.

"Weasley! What are you doing you blithering idiot?"

"Harry.. bleeding.. dying.. help!" Fred babbled, tears running down his face in a steady stream and this brought the Potions Master to action. In all his years of teaching, he had never seen either of the twins acting in such a desperate manner. They were pranksters and annoyingly cheerful, but they were excellent students in potions and applied themselves. Much to the dark mans chagrin, he thought they were quite brilliant in many of their endeavours.

He quickly slipped into his office and snatched his bag from beside his desk. The snarly man motioned for Fred to step back and followed the boy through the green flames, landing himself in Surrey.

The young man wiped his bloody hands on his jeans and started back out the door. The Potions Master cast a quick Disillusionment charm on himself and followed at a brisk pace, wondering inwardly what could have happened to the perfect Golden Boy.

He was met at the door by a woman who was white as a sheet. She was vaguely familiar and Snape suddenly recalled a thin teenage girl who always lurked in the shadows whenever he was allowed to visit his friend Lily over the summer.

"Severus? Please, come in. Help him, please Severus!" She sobbed and shook her head, but the invitation was enough, the wards cleared him and he strode after the redhead, stepping over a sickeningly obese child lying unconscious on the floor.

When he came upon The-Boy-Who-Lived he could not believe his eyes, but his mediwizard training did not allow him to linger and wonder, but spurred him into action, pulling vials of potion from his bag, his wand casting diagnostic spells without thought.

It was appalling.

The boy did not even flinch or attempt to move when he was gently lifted from the floor, only blinking his large green eyes. He saw it there. The look he himself had seen in the mirror so many years ago. The boy was broken.

Severus healed the boy as best he could, but he would need rest and many more potions before he would be something like himself again physically. He transfigured a sofa into a large bed and levitated the boy onto it. He cast several more spells, sighing in relief when it came up moderately stable and finally then looked around the room.

A large man lay on the floor surrounded by what appeared to be a broken table. He was unconscious, bloodstained hands sprawled on the floor, his pants opened and his member untucked. Severus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his fingers clenching around his wand as he fought for control of his temper.

Twin redheads were silently watching him as he gained the necessary control and he motioned for them to join him upstairs after casting a monitoring charm on the unconscious Boy-Who-Lived.

They were met with a broken sobbing women, curled up on a chair. Severus brought his hand down on her shoulder and she lifted her head meeting his coal black eyes. "What happened here?"

The Potions Master vaguely noticed the matching redheads moving to the kitchen to make tea, but was grateful, when a cup was placed in his hands.

The woman broke down.

The sobbed and babbled about Harry coming home and her husband changing. She told them of the cupboard and his life as a child, the second bedroom upstairs and how he came to be at Hogwarts. She told them of how Vernon had been over the summer. He had beaten the boy every day since he came home and she had feared for his life on many occasions when the crashes from the basement would become louder and the screams suddenly stop. Dudley and Vernon had stayed in the basement for hours at a time and come up with clothes stained in blood. She told them she had tried to reason with her husband at one point, but she had only received a harsh slap across the face for her troubles. She had been told never to argue or try to interfere, because they would not be paid if the child was not broken when he was to return to boarding school.

The twins exchanged a look and mouthed 'paid?' at each other. Severus also noticed this oddity, but did not interrupt the woman.

She explained that she had snuck out of her bedroom after her son and husband were asleep and slipped downstairs trying to help Harry. Petunia had set Hedwig free and tried to give Harry a few muggle remedies for the pain and had fed and given him water when she could.

"He has never been treated nicely in this family because of what he is, I am guilty of mistreating him as well, but never like this. Vernon has never harmed him other than a slap or a firm hold. This is different. I know Lily and I never got along, but this is a child. My sisters child."

She looked at her son and sobbed. "How did this come to be?"

Severus looked around the home and noted the too-clean surfaces, the mountains of pictures of the large boy by the door, but none of Harry.

He was wrong. This boy. This child was not spoiled. He was not a copy of James Potter. He should have seen it. Should have seen the situation, but was too blinded by the hatred of the boys' parent to recognize what truly was.

The-Boy-Who-Lived was so much like Severus himself had been as a child that the shame was too much for him. He rose from his seat and strode to the stairs, opening the cupboard. He closed his eyes when he saw the tiny mattress, the mouldy threadbare blanket, the stains of blood littering both. He moved up the stairs and saw the room with locks and opened it cautiously. It looked as if no one lived there. A tiny cot with another barely there blanket, a broken quill on the desk, the room littered with broken toys and dust.

When he returned downstairs the twins were gone, Severus assumed to the basement and he sat down looking at the woman he remembered from his childhood.

"Petunia"

The thin woman looked at him, her red rimmed eyes begging him for help. "Please. I know I don't deserve it, but please save the boy."

Severus nodded and rose from his chair. "I cannot let your husband and son go unpunished." Petunia drew in a sharp breath and nodded, resigned. "Do what you think best Severus. They would deserve whatever they go for the treatment of that child." She rose and went upstairs, her head bowed.

"Messrs Weasley!" Severus called for the twins as he stood in front of Dudley, watching the whale as he lay unconscious.

"Professor?" a soft voice came from the basement door, two ashen faces poking from the doorway.

"You did well. That boy would have died if you had not moved as quickly as you did." They nodded.

"He is awake.."

"..Professor, but he's not really making sense." George concluded as he moved downstairs again. Severus followed the mirror images and sank into a chair next to the bed.

A timid croaking voice whispered to him "Professor?"

"Yes, Potter, it's Professor Snape. Do not attempt to speak, your vocal cords are still mending. You are safe. We have spoken with your aunt and you will be taken out of here at once. Your aunt will be leaving as well. They seem to have received monetary rewards for treating you in this hateful fashion and until I know from whom I will not be letting you out of my sight."

Harry nodded and laid back against the pillows, his head swimming slightly. He knew who had done this. He knew who wanted him broken, but he was afraid to tell the snarly professor. Feared that he would once again be met with anger and hatred. He opened his eyes but saw only darkness.

"I can't see." His voice rasped. "I can't see."

Severus started and looked into the bright green eyes who were gazing unseeingly at the ceiling. "I cannot repair your eyes Potter. I am not trained in optometry. We will have to wait until we can take you to Sct. Mungo's."

Harry started to violently shake his head and croaked again. "No.. Headmaster.. Sorting Hat.. Please.. Look.. eyes.. Read me.." The words blurted from his mouth, but Harry hoped the message came across. A soft hand rested on his cheek, Fred's, and he stilled and lay back. He opened his eyes wide and heard a whispered "_Legilimens" _before he felt another presence in his mind.

Severus searched the memories the boy pushed towards him and became more and more angry with each brush of thought. This was planned.

"I will be taking you away. Messrs Weasley, I need you to come with me and stay with Harry while I take care of a few things. We need the Sorting Hat. The Headmaster seems to have a grand plan and the pile of cloth has been witness to it. Mr Potter was meant to be harmed this way. I know not why, but I intend to find out."

Severus rose and placed a hand on the boys shoulder. "We will solve this. If nothing else, you will never step foot in this home again." The relief radiated off the boy and Severus steeled himself for the upcoming struggle. For he knew it would be, if the old man had anything to do with this atrocity.

The hatred and anger for the boy had morphed into something else, when he had seen the evidence of abuse littered across his frail body and the empty vacant look in the child's eyes. Those eyes, so much like that of Lily's would gleam and sparkle once more if he had anything to say on the matter.

The obsidian eyed man strode to the meaty muggle lying on the floor and plucked a few hairs from his head, going upstairs he did the same to the offspring and stepped into the family room where Petunia was gathering books and other things into a bag.

"I am going to create copies of this family, including yourself and they will be used as a distraction. It seems there is a grander plan at play here and we need to find the culprits before anything further can happen. I will need a few hairs from you." She complied and zipped her bag as Severus transfigured three golems to match the Head of the house, his offspring and wife.

He turned and found one of the twins holding out two small books and three black hairs. "We figured you wanted the muggles taken away, so we transfigured them." Severus took the books and shrunk them, pocketing them both before creating a fourth golem that resembled the injured boy downstairs. Petunia showed him where Vernon had thrown Harry's trunk and he repeated the action, shrinking belongings and pocketing them. He nodded at the red-headed boy and strode downstairs yet again. "Your trunk has been retrieved, do you have anything else in this house you need, before we take you away?" Harry croaked his explanation about the lose floorboard under his bed and soon George returned with the few things that had been stashed in the second bedroom since last summer.

"We will be going to my family home and you three will stay there while I retrieve what we need from Hogwarts. Contact no one until I return. Understood?" Twin heads bobbed in agreement and the Potions Master gingerly picked up his student while the redheads followed him. Petunia was standing by the door, bags at her feet, waiting.

"We will contact you by owl to let you know how he is. I will inform the bird to stay for a reply in case you need anything." Harry's aunt nodded and looked mournfully at her nephew before leaving the home, quickly followed by wizards.

Arriving a Spinners End, Severus quickly changed the wards to allow his guests, and strode in, passing the other rooms before ending in his bedroom. He spelled the sheets free of dust and settled the child into the bed, pulling the covers over his slim form. He pulled out a vial and squatted by the bed looking at his student. "Dreamless Sleep Potter. You will need the rest to heal and you could surely do without the nightmares." Harry nodded gratefully and swallowed down the vile tasting potion. He only had time to ponder his professors' sudden kindness for a moment before slipping into a peaceful deep slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **This is a very short chapter, but I'll be uploading about two or three more either today or tomorrow, so I hope you'll forgive it.. It seemed to sort of break the flow of things when I tried to shuffle the chapters together..

**Chapter 3**

Harry slowly swam out of the dark potion-induced state of sleep towards awareness hours later. It was the first true rest he had gotten in weeks, so he was grateful for it, even as he tried remembering how and why he had received this gift of peace.

_Pain. _

That was all Harry could remember when consciousness returned to him.

Pain. Searing, excruciating, pain.

Slowly his eyes fluttered open and he was met with a wall of black emptiness and he took comfort in it. The dark meant solitude. In the dark he was finally alone.

He had spent weeks in a universe where he was cold, uncomfortable and in a constant haze of pain and blood loss. His only company had been those with cold meaty hands that cracked his bones, ripped his flesh and made blood flow from his body onto the dirty floor he had been tossed upon like a rag doll.

The only reprieve in his torture were the warm hands. They combed through his dirty hair while he was slowly fed scraps of bread and cold water that soothed his throat. His hazed mind remembered a gentle voice apologizing and light tears landing on his face as the owner of the soft hands and sad voice tried to keep him concious enough to eat.

The pain was still present, but had slightly dulled and the surface he was lying on was not the hard floor of the number 4 basement, but rather soft sheets, that kept him warm. He wiggled a bit and sighed, an harsh twinge in his ribs making his breath hitch slightly, but compared to the blinding pain he had been in since leaving Hogwarts it was a relief. He struggled slightly to push himself into a seated position and blinked heavily attempting to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

A hand on his arm brought him out of his thoughts and his body responded with instant panic.

The cold fear creeping into his bones made him tense up and prepare for the onslaught of agony and humiliation, soft whimpers escaped his throat and his sightless eyes clenched tightly together as he tried to curl up into a ball to protect his most vulnerable parts. _No please, please not again. Just a few more minutes of peace Uncle Vernon._

He started to hyperventilate making it more and more difficult to focus and control his limbs, his ribs protesting harshly, but he knew that when he kept still and quiet his uncle would be less angry.

A soft soothing chorus of voices brought back the memories of his last hours awake. He was safe. The ginger-haired boys he loved so much had come for him. They had not forgotten him.

"Harry, calm down mate. Take deep.."

"-.. breaths and calm down. We wont let.."

"-.. anyone hurt our Harry again."

A gentle hand was placed on his cheek, cupping his jaw and he leaned gratefully into the touch with a soft smile stretching his chapped and broken lips.

Over the next few hours he was slowly fed soup and small bits of bread, while the twins told him tales of their summer so far. They never spoke of Harry's summer, which he was grateful for.

While Fred spoke, George gently dabbed and rinsed out the wounds and scrapes visible. He tried to thank them both, but was gently told to keep quiet so his throat could mend itself. His tattered and stained clothes were removed and he was washed again. His instincts were screaming at him to cover up and curl in on himself, but he reasoned with himself that this was Fred and George, the boys who had saved him both from himself and others numerous times.

They would never harm him.

When he was clean and his bandages had been changed he was helped into a sitting position and a soft cotton shirt was slipped onto his body. Snuggled back into the sheets Harry inhaled and cracked a small grin. The shirt smelled like chocolate and gunpowder. He reached out and grasped a warm hand and gave it a squeeze in gratitude.

After the twins finished with their tale they fell into comfortable silence, the redheads having sensed that the emerald eyed boy would need his rest for what would come when their professor returned.

His body had yet still not mended itself and this worried the mirror images, but what worried them more so was his silence and behaviour. Not just the quiet whisper he was using due to his mending throat, but that he seemed skittish even around them to speak unless spoken to. They had both heard the story told by Harry's aunt and seen the basement, but his behaviour made them wonder if there was more to it than that.

How badly had these muggles damaged him, not just physically but his mental state as well over the years.

Harry had always been quiet and kept to himself, trying to keep himself out of the spotlight and the papers as much as it is possible when you are The Boy-Who-Lived, but the boy lying on the bed in front of them in the house in Spinners End was but a shadow of their beloved friend.

After watching Harry attempt to keep himself awake for up to an hour they exchanged a glance with each other and then split up, crawling into the bed on either side of their raven-haired friend, giving him the physical comfort he would need. They saw the raw emotion deep in his dull green eyes and knew that he was struggling to understand that he was finally safe. He needed to know they were there, just to feel that he was no longer in danger.

Harry finally stopped trying to control his body and latched greedily onto the comforting embrace of his friends. He smiled remembering that he had been in this position before weeks ago, when he had been wandering the halls out of fear to sleep in his dorm room.

The twins watched their friend dream, his whimpers cutting into their hearts. What had been done to their Harry?

Severus Snape arrived at Hogsmeade and quickly made his way towards the large castle, his feet crunching through the gravel as his long strides brought him from the apparations point. Thankfully he knew that the Headmaster would be in Ireland for the next week so the trip would be possible without encounters and he would not have to try and deceive him. He strode through the doors and quickly found himself in front of the gargoyle that guarded the main office.

The Potions Master sneered slightly and gave the password before slipping onto the moving staircase. He wasted no time and opened the door to find it empty except for Fawkes. He sighed and stroked the birds feathers, looking into the mournful eyes not fitting of a Phoenix.

"Ah.. Severus. How good to see you darling boy."

The obsidian eyed man started and turned only to scowl slightly. The pile of cloth.

"I have heard disturbing things from a student, Hat. I trust that you might be able to cast some much needed light on the situation." The Hat seemed to ponder this for a moment before giving as much of a nod as a garment can.

"I cannot leave school grounds, as you well know, but I believe I have a solution. Do you have a pensieve Professor?"

Severus quickly caught on to what the pile of cloth was yammering about and slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out what he had been asked. He turned the pensieve into its original size and placed it onto the table. Retrieving his wand from its holster he picked the hat off the cupboard.

"I cannot give you the inner workings of Albus Dumbledore, but I can show you and tell you what has been witnessed by myself and Fawkes. Do as you would usually do when retrieving a memory and it should work itself out. And hurry lad."

The Potions professor did as told and was soon on his way towards the infirmary after slipping Fawkes a treat and brushing his soft warm feathers in parting.

"Poppy!"

The mediwitch came out of her office and sent him a cold stare only rivalled by McGonagall, her lips pressed into a tight line. Severus explained that he had a student in danger, but for the sake of all of their lives he would need to make her give an Oath of Silence before explaining.

She briefly complained that he was wasting time, but when she took a look at his ashen face and the tightness around his eyes she complied quickly.

She closed her eyes, the colour draining from her face when she was told of the state of her favourite patient. Without further delay she rushed to her office and packed both a personal bag and her medical items before slipping back to Severus, falling into step with him as they made their way towards the end of the school wards. She clamped her hand onto his arm and met his eyes, the usual glare in the midnight black orbs having softened by worry and a slight hint of despair. She gave him a tight smile before they apparated to Spinners End.

The Matron and the Potions Master silently entered the home and made their way to the Master bedroom. The redheads stirred when the door creaked open and they slipped away from Harry, but clasped his hands when he started whimpering softly in his sleep.

"We cleaned him up..-"

".. as best we could Professor and we..-"

".. made sure he had something to eat."

Their eyes went wide when they saw Poppy Pomfrey, but calmed when the Potions Master informed them she could be trusted with a nod of the head.

The Mediwitch quickly started casting diagnostic spells, her brow furrowing with each one. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, but kept going until she had made a full scan. Turning she steeled herself for the reaction but none the less began explaining.

"He is lucky to be alive I must say. He is relatively stable but he is still in critical condition." She paused and put a silencing charm around the bed, shielding Harry. "In addition to the bruising littering his body he suffers from severe malnutrition and he is anaemic. His magical core is drained Severus. It is almost completely exhausted due to it trying to heal his body on its own. He has 7 broken ribs, 4 bruised. His trachea has some bruising and his larynx is swollen. Three fingers on his left hand are shattered and he has several contusions paired with fractures in his skull. His 5th and 6th vertebrae have been shifted and his right leg is broken in 2 places. In addition he has a crack in his pelvis and.." she took a deep breath and wiped underneath her eyes. "..and his sphincter and rectum has been damaged severely."

Severus closed his eyes and lowered his head before brushing past Poppy into the silent bubble. He kneeled by the bed and brushed raven hair out of Harry's forehead. The youth stirred and opened his eyes, but the Potions Master shuddered slightly at the vacant green eyes staring at black emptiness. He lifted the silencing charm and turned to the Mediwitch. "What of his sight Poppy? The boy cannot see."

"I believe it is a result of the contusions in his brain. He might regain his sight within a day. Or.. he might never. I'm terribly sorry Mr. Potter."

Harry turned his head towards the sound of the woman who had taken care of him over the years and tried to smile in a reassuring fashion.

"I will attempt to make this as pain free as possible for you Mr. Potter, but your bones will need to be re-set." Harry winced, but nodded his acceptance before closing his eyes again.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Alright.. This is around the time where I reveal the main-twist of the story. It's fairly cliché but every HP writer worth their salt has to do it some time.. It's a rite of passage.

I realize that this might be the time where I risk getting flamed, where I might lose readers or maybe even gain some.. I'm hoping for the last.. I actually like my little twist and I plan on milking it for all I've got.. Make or break time people.. ~takes a deep breath~

Remember: Flames just get published for all to see and scorned.. I also use it for inspiration.. ~smirks~

Constructive criticism on the other hand: Big applause for those..

Now.. let's get on with it.. Don't hate me and keep an open mind my Dovelings

**Chapter 4**

Soft gentle fingers combed through his hair waking Harry from his drugged sleep and he sighed happily, leaning against the soothing touch.

He was safe.

When a voice broke though the quiet of the room he was startled to find that the soft hands caressing him were those of his professor, but he shrugged it off. It just did not matter any more.

"Mr Potter I have retrieved the memories of the Sorting Hat from the headmasters office. I have put it into a Pensieve and I need to know if you would like to experience it in private or if you would like some support. I would like to accompany you into the memory myself, but I believe moral support would be a wise thing." Severus fixed his gaze onto the twins and they nodded.

"You can all come. I need to have help figuring all of this out."

The Potions Master slipped his hand into his robe pocket and enlarged the Pensieve. He carefully cast a spell, making sure that the bed would follow into the memory and motioned to the redheads to take a hold of Harry's hands. They did so, intertwining their fingers with his and along with Severus and Madame Pomfrey slipped into the memory.

They found themselves in a ghostly version of the headmasters office - the Sorting Hat sitting atop the large desk.

"Welcome. I cannot show you the memories that I have, since I am but a creation and do not have the conciousness of a wizard or a witch, but I can tell you of the things I have seen and heard. The information I am about to tell you will shock you, but I implore you to listen. It is crucial."

Severus placed himself in the corner of the room, covered in shadows- his watchful dark eyes taking in everything. Poppy leaned against the bed post and the twins gingerly perched on either side of Harry, their hands giving his a reassuring squeeze.

"You have all been deceived in more or less vicious ways dearest friends. Even I have, without my consent, been used for hateful things. The Sorting is a sham. In the past Sorting was done through careful consideration of the qualities of a student – just as the founders wished it to be. These days it is either choice on the part of the student, coercion by the parents, bribing or just plain lies."

Harry nodded and readied himself for the tale to be told.

"I can give you examples from your own year Mr. Potter. Your young friend Mr Longbottom was never suited for Gryffindor. Although he does have courage, he belongs in Hufflepuff as the combined traits he bares are more befitting the hard-working crowd there. Ms Granger is another example - her studious ways are more in tune with the House of Ravenclaw, just as your mother was Mr Potter. Lily Evans was more suited for Ravenclaw or Slytherin. I do not understand the reasoning behind the manipulations or even know how, but I do know that the choices were not true of the tradition."

"Hermione.. Off course." Harry murmured to himself, trying to come to terms with this new fact. He himself had chosen to shift house, and so had the young men sitting on either side of him, but he had never believed that they could have been fooled so much.

"The young Weasley children are another example as I told Mr. Potter at the end of term. They did not chose. Like you Mr. Potter they were coerced. The pressure of family is what put them in Gryffindor, not choice. The young woman would have found her true potential in Slytherin and would have made an even more brilliant witch, coming out of the shadow of the many Sons of the Weasley Clan. She would become more than just a mother and wife. She would become more than her own mother. And the boys. Ah.. they would have found knowledge and acceptance in Slytherin. The House of Snakes has not been changed by the introduction of muggle's into the magical world and the values and morals found there is the same as it has always been. They would have known that many magical twins share a soul-link. That the love they feel for each other is normal in the wizarding world."

Harry could almost feel the heat of blood rushing to the twins' cheeks, but he merely smiled and squeezed their hands.

"The Weasleys are part of your so-called choice as well. I remember well an exchange between one Molly Weasley and the Headmaster, where she promised to inform her son to befriend The-Boy-Who-Lived no matter the cost. The personality of Ronald Weasley is very fitting of his task. He was told to gain Mr. Potter's friendship and could therefore become _something_ in the large brood of brothers. The best mate of Harry Potter."

Harry nodded. He had suspected this for a long time. He knew that Ron had never been a true friend. He was jealous and hotheaded and his quest for stardom was what drove him to what he did at every turn. He remembered the taunts about Slytherin and the crestfallen look that had briefly flashed through Draco Malfoy's eyes when he had declined his friendship. If he ever had the chance, he would make it up to the blond boy.

"The deception goes back to the times of your parents Mr. Potter. Everything in the days of the Marauders was orchestrated from the very beginning." Harry eyes widened and his ginger-haired companions jerked their heads up in recognition, where across the room a disturbed Severus took a deep shuddering breath and clenched his hands. He did not expect the boy to be informed of his parents' youth, much less his own, but he kept quiet.

"Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and James Potter were bullies. This is not an accusation, but a statement of fact. And the worst they ever did was against a brilliant but quiet young man named Severus Snape." Harry gasped and bit his lip.

_His father. _

"The Headmaster had seen the close relationship between the young Slytherin and Lily Evans and, even while he was speaking of House Unity, could not let this go, for reasons I will return to in a moment.

The two were close both on school grounds and over the summer and had a familial bond. Almost as brother and sister, one could say. Albus saw the love they shared and decided that the young woman should be paired with a more suitable crowd, and in the end a more suitable match: James Potter. Potter was enamoured with the young witch and would constantly attempt to gain her attention and affection over the years. He was jealous of the young Slytherin boy for accomplishing what he failed at. Said youth was very close to Professor Dumbledore and together they hatched a plan, which in the end succeeded in breaking up the tight friendship."

A silent tear fell down Harry's cheek as he listened to the Hat. _His parents_. Everything he had been told and shown was unravelling at this very moment. He did not want to hear any more, but the Hat continued.

"Two of the boys tried to intervene, but when Lupin was threatened with exposure of his secret by the Headmaster and Black was reminded of debts of a personal matter they could no longer argue. The Black boy had been thrown out into the streets at age 15 because of his false placement in Gryffindor and his continued defiance against his parents. The Potter family took him in on young James' request. He would do anything to see his friend happy, even at the cost of his own morals. He owed James a life debt of sorts."

Severus took a shuddering breath as his whole world was turned on its axis. The mutt and the wolf were not to blame. They had tried to stop the abuse. Even as he stood there he tried to remember their faces, the look in their eyes while their mouths and wands worked to ruin his years as a student.

"Young Lily Evans is another story that has been carefully staged. She is not an Evans.." Harry gripped onto the hands holding his and held his breath.

".. but more likely a Prewett. And also a Prince."

A small cry came from the Potions Master. His mother.

"The child was taken from Eileen Prince by our esteemed headmaster and placed in the custody of muggles. And Severus my lad, if you are here, your mother never knew. Her mind was altered."

Severus quietly made his way to Harry and kneeled next to the bed. He touched the boys' shoulder and whispered in a soft shuddering voice he almost did not recognize himself. "My nephew... Lily truly was my sister."

"The father – your grandfather Mr. Potter- was Billius Prewett - Mrs. Molly Weasley's uncle. Your headmaster was in love with the man and when he found out that he would never have the man he adored he committed a terrible crime. He had the man killed. The punishment for being the object of Billius' affection was to live without the love-child they had. Eileen's mind was punished severely and she found herself in a marriage with a muggle who abused and mistreated her. Tobias Snape was not a kind man, but the household had one bright spot for her: her young son."

Severus bowed his head in shame and placed his forehead onto the mattress. He never wanted anyone to know his shameful past, but there was nothing to do now. His nephew deserved to know the truth. The whole truth.

"Lily never loved James.." Harry gasped again and started quietly sobbing now. His whole life. His parents. It was all a lie.

"..and their marriage was created to cover up an even bigger lie. The identity of the father of one Harry James Potter." A soft cry came from the emerald-eyed teen and he was quickly enveloped in a cocoon of ginger-haired boys.

"Schhh.. Harry. You need..-"

".. to hear this love."

"As a young woman - just graduated from Hogwarts- Lily Evans accepted a position as an apprentice in the Ministry. During one of her first weeks there she met a man – a brilliant politician, who swept her off her feet. They fell in love and were engaged to be married. He was hard-working and set on creating fair laws when it came to education and Muggle relations."

Severus lifted his head and his wide eyes met the sky-blue of the Mediwitch.

_It couldn't be._

"Lily was blissfully unaware that a plot was being formed behind her back and plans were set into action without her knowledge. She was carrying a baby without her lovers knowledge and was waiting for the right time to tell him the happy news when a dark cloud fell on her joy. When her fiancé travelled to Scandinavia for a meeting she suddenly disappeared and turned up a few days later married to one James Potter. She was Obliviated and all knowledge of her lover was taken from her. Memory charms ensured that she was convinced that the child was conceived with her new husband and the same was done to James. He was sure the child growing in her womb was his. One could argue that whatever other crimes James Potter committed he did love his son, as he never knew the child's true parentage."

Harry sobbed quietly and mourned the fate of his mother, his fingers clenching around the arms that held him.

"Our young politician returned and he found his fiancé gone and married to someone actively on the opposing side of his cause: a man who worked for Albus Dumbledore - a figure in the wizarding world who had not only made his life as a child and youth into a living hell of abuse and neglect, but had also used every means to discredit him in the media and with the Ministry. He became enraged, but when the news of her pregnancy reached him he snapped. His mind broke severely and the brilliant leader was no more. His name was Thomas Marvolo Riddle Jr."

Harry started shaking his head. The words had started to mean something to him, but he could not be.

He could not be the Dark Lords son.

"The events of that fateful Halloween was carefully orchestrated. The job as Secret Keeper of the Potter home was given to Peter Pettigrew because the Headmaster suggested to James that young Mr Black was too obvious a choice.

The death of Mr Potters mother is a tragedy and so is the fate of our young politician. His heartbreak and rage triggered something long buried in his mind and he flew into a frenzy."

Harry opened his eyes, the tears flowing freely now. He had a father. A father who never knew of him. A father who believed the love of his life had betrayed him. He had an uncle.

Harry had a family.

"All of this my friends is because of a Prophecy." The Hat cleared its throat and spoke clearly.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Phoenix Lord approaches... Born to those with the blood of the four, born as the seventh month dies...and the Father will mark him as his equal... neither must die at the hand of the other.. neither can live while the other survives...When the father and Son stand together, the Lord shall fall.. The Son with the power is born as the seventh month dies.."_

The memory ended and they found themselves back in the Snape family home. Severus had already begun thinking it through in his head.

Alone and separate the twisted crimes and plots were appalling, but all put together into a string of well-weaved images it was..

It was madness.

Severus realized long ago that the Headmasters greatest fault was seeing the people around him, not as humans - not as fellow witches and wizards, but as tools. As puppets. Severus knew this because he himself was one. He had been used and dangled on a string for over a decade. The dour man had let it happen, thinking it would give him some sort of absolution for his past crimes, but Harry had made no mistakes. He was innocent in the grander scheme of things and he had, unlike the Potions Master, never given permission to be used as a puppet. As a tool.

He now knew that since he could not kill The-Boy-Who-Lived Dumbledore had decided to create the perfect tool. A pawn

"_The Phoenix Lord_, that would be Dumbledore.. _the blood of the four_.. off course.. The founders.. _Merlin.. _The Prince family are descendants of Helga Hufflepuff, not Heirs, but blood regardless.. The Dark Lord is from Slytherin himself.. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.. Prewett.. Off course.. _neither must die at the hands of the other.. _and neither did. The Dark Lord was never fully destroyed.. _neither can live while the other survives.. _They were both struggling with life and now is the only time when they are both alive and not just surviving. This is the time."

He did not realize that he had been mumbling out loud to himself before he heard the raven-haired boy's shuddering gasp. "It _is_ now.. Professo.. I mean.. I don't.. I can't.. "

Severus put his hand on the boys arm and spoke quietly. "I know this is a lot to take in.. Mr Potter.. And I do not require you to call me anything specific, but you may call me by my given name if I may do the same?" Harry nodded and smiled tentatively.

Severus nodded and sent the boy a rare smile, even if he knew it was never seen. He crouched down and took a tiny cold hand in his large one - long fingers wrapping around a frail appendage. "Harry I believe this is the time to look forward and forget the past. We have both behaved in an atrocious manner but after everything I believe that in the grander scheme of things we should look to make the manner we treat each other better from this point and not hold grudges. I will be the first to admit I was wrong and apologize and I would like to start a new. I am no longer merely your professor... I am family and I should like to treat you as such.. If you would allow me to do so."

"We need think this all through and find the next course of action..." Harry interrupted him and spoke sharply – his voice only stuttering slightly on the unfamiliarity of calling his Potions Professor.. -his uncle by his first name. "I want to go to him.. Se-Severus. He needs to know. I don't know what will happen, but I want to know if he will accept me as his son. He needs to know the truth. He is a victim. We all are."

Severus closed his eyes in resignation and exhaled. "Very well Harry. If that is what you wish. I do insist that we postpone this until the morning, when you have had sufficient rest and more healing done. Is this acceptable to you?"At Harry nod he motioned for the boys who had been standing silently by his nephew to take care of him before striding into the kitchen.

The Potions Master slowly started to make tea the muggle way. His mind raced with thoughts of the monstrosity done to this poor child.

_How could we all have been so wrong? _Severus wondered as he found a cup for his tea. He had always thought that the circumstances behind Harry's placement with the muggles were sketchy, but now he realized that it was a very calculated move in a complicated scheme. Dumbledore had clearly done this to create a cowering weak boy, who was broken and dependant on the Headmaster – dutifully worshipping him like his own personal saviour.

With a sneer Severus shook his head. _He did it once before and gained a puppet for his collection and now he sought to collect the most important one in the boy. The crown jewel of his pawn-collection. _

As a student and a young man the Potions Master had been a scared broken child, moulded by the years of abuse at the hands of his father and by his school years through harsh wand-slashes and humiliation. The small frightened child had grown into a severely depressed and withdrawn young man, who had given up on finding a place to belong until he had met the Dark Lord.

The charisma and knowledge of the older man had seduced him and he had become the personal Potions Master and a follower of a rising politician and leader of the wizarding world.

Severus rubbed his eyes, ignoring the pinpricks of tears behind his lids. He had begged his Lord to spare his sister, but to no avail. Grief and a broken heart had led him to the Headmaster, securely attaching his puppet-strings.

Severus had been broken, and still was in some ways.

Dumbledore had truly surrounded himself with children and adults he could manipulate to his own gain. He surrounded the Hero-worshipping James Potter with people who had weaknesses to be exploited – who would follow his lead without question out of fear or misplaced loyalty.

Thinking back to his earlier point he realized that Sirius Black was the victim of yet another crime. He should have - after the death of the boys' parents - been made legal guardian, since he held the title of the boys godfather. The mutt had asked for his godson and when he was refused the grief had boiled and turned into rage. That rage was what made him go after Pettigrew to sate his thirst for vengeance.

_The mutt would have given Harry a proper childhood and support. Love. _

As Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot Dumbledore could have insisted that Black have a fair trail under Veritaserum. He had done so before – even with Severus' own trail. There was no true reason not to step in and speak on behalf of man who had worked for him and supported his cause.

Because of the lack of invasion Severus had thought Black to be guilty.

_Could the old coot have knowingly allowed an innocent man to be sent to Azkaban just to get him out of the way?_

Dumbledore was truly a fiend. Azkaban was a true house of torture and Black had been sent there for the sake of his silence and for Dumbledore to remain in control of a small child – barely a toddler. Azkaban would do several things: keep Black from influencing Harry -giving him the support he would desperately need- and also destroy his mind - driving him to madness- but it would also prevent the mutt from ever growing suspicious that the Headmaster had any hand in the death of the Potters.

The Onyx-eyed man poured the tea, added sugar and stirred slowly as he thought it over.

Lupin would have been the obvious choice to take the Potter baby. He had been crushed when he heard of Blacks' betrayal that lead to the attack on the Potter home and the subsequent death of his friends. Had the old coot used his grief and anger as well? He had left his friends for an assignment for the Order and had returned to find his whole world turned upside down.

_An assignment given by Dumbledore himself _Severus thought as he sipped his tea.

Perhaps the old man had used the wolf and his guilt to talk him out of offering himself as guardian. It would have been easy to manipulate Lupin, who was always an emotional being. The wolf within the man would have been distraught at the destruction of his "Pack", making the strain and guilt overflow. Perhaps the old man had even threatened to expose him if he did not drop the inclination of taking care of the child. Werewolves were seen as Dark Creatures and he would never be allowed to care for the boy or even be able to hold a job so he could support not only himself but also an infant.

The only motive Severus could see all added up to purposely placing Harry with the Dursley's.

Internally the dour man wondered when the true prophesy had been made. _How long has this been under way?_

Severus shook his head. He would have to speak to Pettigrew. If his thoughts on the matter were correct, then Dumbledore had talked young Peter into being a spy, telling him the fake prophesy. Off course the weak stuttering man broke under the pressure of being a Death Eater. Believing he betrayed his friends he off course truly joined the Dark and came to later tell the Dark Lord the Secret of the Potter's hidden home.

Dumbledore had placed those whose children fit the requirements of the prophesy under the Fidelius Charm, but Severus had always wondered why the Headmaster had not taken the job of the Potter's Secret-Keeper himself. _It all makes perfect sense now._

It was appalling and horrible and... it made a sickeningly large amount of sense.

The Dark Lord had been broken mentally, leaving an enraged creature who felt nothing but lust for revenge and a thirst for power. He would naturally want to eliminate the threat the prophecy spoke of and also punish his love for betraying him. Dumbledore had sent the families to safety and left the Potters open for an attack.

With the death of Pettigrew and Black in Azkaban he only had to manipulate the vulnerable wolf into submission. No one was left to reveal him or suspect anything so he could go on with his plan, seeing as the boy never died.. Never died.. When the boy did not die at the hands of his father, Dumbledore decided to mould the boy into his own personal toy soldier. _Off course..._

_Why go through all this trouble?_

The Potions Master placed his head in his own slightly shaking hands. Harry had been created as a mirror image of his own uncle. A loyal pawn to be played with and pushed into position. Severus had been toyed with, seeing Albus Dumbledore as a protector and saviour and Harry was next in line when he was _rescued _from the abuse of muggles, ensuring a grateful child who felt indebted toward the Headmaster for saving him. A naturally submissive child with low self-esteem, who would do anything to stay in the wizarding world and out of his home.

_History repeats itself.._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The rush of side-along Apparation swooped through Harry's stomach and he clenched onto Snape's arm. He felt like he was being compressed from all directions, making him gasp for breath – his ribs protested at the tightening around his chest and the ragged breaths he attempted to drag. Harry clenched his eyelids closely together, whimpering slightly at the feeling of his eyeballs being forced into his head and he tightened his hands around his uncle's arm, reminding himself not to let go. His frail body was not prepared for the onslaught of Apparation and he had to force himself not to clamp his arms around his own skull to protect himself as he had done before his rescue.

It was unbearable, disorienting and Harry for the first time was thankful for the loss of vision – otherwise the trip would surely have made him vomit. He swallowed and clenched his fist, clamping his lips together to keep from screaming and then suddenly it was over and -as usual with magical travel- he stumbled and almost fell upon arrival. A warm hand on his wrist kept him standing and he leaned against the tall man at his side, letting his uncle support him. The man squeezed his arm in reassurance and they stood for a moment, letting him collect himself.

Harry swallowed the bile that had risen to his throat and shook off the dizzy feeling, taking soft panting breaths for a moment then gave a shaky nod, allowing his uncle to steer him through the darkness.

The teen had been covered in a long dark cloak that swept along the floor and a hood was pulled over his head to hide his downcast face.

As Harry unsteadily walked besides his uncle he thought about what had happened since his rescue. After an quiet, potion-induced sleep, Harry had woken up between the twins again, making him smile and his heart soar with affection and gratitude. To pass the time they had quietly told Harry of their plans of starting a business and new ideas for pranks, making the green-eyed boy breathlessly laugh. When Severus had awoken they had spent the morning talking to Harry to prepare him for the meeting with his father. Harry had been adamant and insisted to go, arguing that despite the danger he needed come – he needed to face his father, even if it meant his death. The man deserved to hear the truth.

His uncle had spoken to him about his theories and the teen had realized that keeping out of the war was impossible and staying on the side of Light - on the side of Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix - was no longer an option after the revelations.

He had dictated a long letter to his godfather, telling him what had happened with the Dursleys – keeping the details to himself, but explaining as much as he could - and then telling him about the Sorting Hat.

If Harry had been writing himself, the paper would have been soaked through with tears of grief and betrayal, but Fred had quietly written the letter, while George held him and wiped the hot tears from his cheeks. In the letter he apologized for what might happen -begging Sirius to understand- but that he needed to know and he needed to do what he felt was right. Similar letters had been sent to Hermione and Neville, all bearing secrecy-charms -courtesy of Severus- and spelled with a sort of block to keep the contents from being disclosed to anyone as soon as the recipient touched the pages.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts, when they entered a room and the teen had to clench his fists to keep from crying out when pain flared through his scar at the presence of the Dark Lord.

Of his father.

The teen kept his eyes closed against the darkness and his head downcast, keeping his attention on the sounds in the room. He heard the whisper of cloth moving, a chair being moved back as someone stood, the deep sound of harsh breaths coming from beside him as Prof-.. his uncle prepared to speak.

"My Lord.. I.." Snape's urgent drawl was cut off by a chilling malicious laughter. Harry shivered remembering the last time he heard that particular pitch anywhere near his person. The cold graveyard, the bone-white masks, his mother's face - the death reflected disturbingly in Cedric's vacant grey eyes.

His hood was ripped off and his head forcefully pulled back by his hair.

"Excellent work my faithful one. You have brought the boy to me. You shall be greatly rewarded for this gift."

The Dark Lord let his hair go and Harry lowered his head and tensed his body in preparation for the unavoidable - his croaking whimpers already echoing across the room as Voldemort lifted his wand.

"_Crucio_"

It came as a soft whisper -a caress across the room- and Harry shivered for a brief moment before the flash of colour, unseen by him, reached for his body and his world knew only pain.

The teen fell to the floor and curled up hugging himself as he usually did when his life exploded in pain. The boy did not scream or make any other sound except a slight whimper and a constant babble of soft whispered pleas for the release of death.

He whispered to those he loved and who had saved him. He whispered of the betrayal of his father and the hatred of the old man who had taken away his family, but all the while his eyes remained open and staring at nothing.

Severus had to forcefully restrain himself from bodily protecting his nephew. He harshly reminded himself that if he interfered he would be killed in an instant – making all hope lost. The boy was counting on him and even as the sight of the boy in such pain was tormenting him he kept still – his hands clenched to tight fists, his nails digging into the palms of his hands hard enough to draw blood.

The thin snakelike man abruptly stopped and lifted the curse and Snape was shocked by the unblinking stare the Dark Lord pierced through the boy who lay at his feet. Harry had curled up in a ball, his arms wrapped around his knees as he attempted to protect himself. Severus winced when he thought of how the boy had looked when he had laid eyes on him just days ago - before his potions had brought the waif out of his trembling chock. Even now after Harry had been healed and brought back from the brink of death, the boy still looked as if he was still only just holding onto both his life and his sanity.

The position and facial expression was familiar to the professor and he almost closed his eyes in pained remembrance of his own childhood.

The dour man gazed at his nephew and tried to keep from letting the pain show on his face as he observed how weak the boy looked. As he looked upon the lightly trembling creature on the floor it was continuously a chock to him how he had been tortured at the hands of the people who had been named family to the imp.

The healing bruises and cuts were a stark contrast to his almost translucently white skin, which was stretched over bones that were far too visible. The dark purple bruise-like shadows under his eyes bore testament to his lack of sleep or even proper rest in the last month was something Severus knew he had only seen one other place; in a mirror many years ago.

Something that still haunted his dreams from time to time.

But the vacant empty emerald orbs that stared unseeingly into the dark room was worst of all. The green that once had belonged to the eyes of his best friend – his sister- was now vacant, glassy and a startling colour that could only be compared to that of the Killing Curse.

Vacant, empty, broken - staring unseeingly into the dark room, those orbs contained only darkness combined with flickers of fear and a hint of madness. Severus feared that most of all.

Harry had fallen onto his side, his body automatically preparing for punishment and without thought he babbled on. "please Father, please... " he sobbed softly, his voice raspy as his throat had still not mended -silvery trails of tears streaming from his eyes. "please Father, just allow me to die. Just please Father, no more pain." His sobs had quieted down with the relief of the curse being lifted and his shoulders sagged, his fingers unclenching from the tight fist he had made to keep from screaming.

The screams always made them laugh. The screams made them punish him more.

Voldemort had fallen silent as he watched the boy. This boy who had stood up to him on numerous occasions with fierce bravery now lay broken, sobbing, shivering at his feet and he had to stifle a gasp as he surveyed the creature lying before him. "Potter. Look at me."

Harry lifted his gaze, the world a dark void yet he obediently followed the sound of the soft cold voice he knew so well. "I can't look at you Sir.. I can follow the sound of your voice but.." Harry choked on a sob, yet kept his head up, his eyes open.

"He sees only darkness My Lord. They have taken his sight. His family.." Severus sneered the last word as if it was a particularly disgusting piece of trash but was cut off yet again by Voldemorts cold hissing voice.

"And what business is this of ours, Severus? This boy.. He.." Voldemort seemed to have no words as his gaze was steadily kept on the sobbing boy who had still not stopped staring, blindly in his direction.

"My Lord. The boy has been through an ordeal, and.. I believe he has neither the strength nor the desire to attempt to fight. I believe Dumbledore has deceived us all. Look into the boys mind My Lord, and I trust you shall come to the same conclusions as I myself have."

Harry took a deep breath and lifted his head higher, his eyes wide open in invitation. He struggled to his knees, his palms up, resting lightly on his thighs and prepared for what he assumed to be even more painful than the ache already throbbing in his scar. He tightened his body to a coil as he felt the tell-tale signs of Legilimency.

Fear gripped the dour Professor as he watched his newly discovered nephew stare unseeingly at the most feared wizard in half a century. The boy sat as straight as he could in his weakened state, his pose submissive - his jaw tense with what Severus could only imagine being a mixture of pain and fear.

Severus was paralysed with dread, but he could not help but feel a familiar swell of pride. He had on all other occasions dismissed the feeling, but in this moment he allowed himself to feel it and acknowledge the bond he had always felt with the small frail raven-haired boy.

Moving his gaze away from the waif, the onyx-eyed man watched the Dark Lord closely – watching as emotions flicked across his face at a rapid pace. Completely absorbed in sorting through the memories of his offspring, the dark wizard did not notice being watched, so Severus felt safe to examine his Master more closely.

The man looked sickly and if Severus did not know better he would say he was minutes from death. Grey wax-like hairless skin covered a frail looking body with inhumanly long limbs. For a moment the Potions Master felt himself being concerned that the shock would be enough to end his Masters life. Snapping himself out of his musings he returned to observing the man's facial expressions as they changed with each passing minute, finally landing on a kind of outraged confusion. The obsidian eyed man gasped and tightened his fists when he looked at the eyes of his Lord.

The red was bleeding out of the dark orbs, flicking from red to brown and each time losing a bit of the crimson.

Suddenly the tall snake-like being crashed to his knees, landing hunched over as he screamed in rage and agony, hands clenched into fists on the floor.

When the Professor saw his nephew flinch and heard soft whimpers escape the boy he sprung into action, quickly making his way to the boy and scooped him up, keeping his arms tightly around the teen. Harry shivered, but stopped whimpering as he was pulled into familiar arms and shielded in soft robes that smelled like potions ingredients and coffee.

Harry had his eyes tightly shut, hands fisted in Severus' robes and the man began whispering softly - running his long fingers through raven locks for the second time in as many days. This boy had seen and been subjected to too much in his short life and the Potions Master found himself wanting to shield and protect his sole family from further pain.

Black eyes met red-tinted dark brown across a short distance and suddenly Severus Snape- professor of Potions at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry- found himself looking at a man he thought he would never gaze at ever again.

Thomas Marvolo Riddle Jr.

His outward appearance had not changed, but the colour and spark in those eyes was familiar and it made his shoulders sag in slight relief. The madness was gone, even if it was just for short moment.

The greasy haired man swept his nephew off the floor and into his arms bridal style, shuddering slightly at the chill of the boys' skin and the too-light body against his chest. He swiftly moved towards the fireplace and pinched a tiny bit of powder into the flames to fire-call one of the only people he felt he could trust at this moment.

Passing his head into the flames - and ignoring the smell of sulphur and ash- he tucked his arms closer around the raven-haired boy and bellowed into the empty room for his blond friend. The sound of fast moving feet on marble flooring sounded and soon after the blond aristocrat came into view. Through the flames Severus came face to face with cold yet concerned ice-blue eyes.

"What are you disturbing my afternoon tea for Severus? This had better be important." Lucius drawled lazily, his gaze strong and piercing.

Not wanting to waste time Severus levelled Lucius Malfoy with a look that would even make Minerva _McGonagall_ flinch and pulled out of the flames, moving back to allow the Head of the Malfoy household to step gracefully through.

Moments later Lord Malfoy found himself in his Master's sitting room and his usual mask almost fell when he took in the sight before him: Severus Snape holding an emaciated and disturbingly dead-looking Harry Potter as the man tried to console and soothe the boy. But the most disturbing thing was his Master.

The Dark Lord Voldemort sat on the floor, his legs tucked underneath his body – long spidery fingers rubbing at his temples while he rocked back and forth. Lucius quickly went to his Master, falling onto his knees before him.

"My Lord? What has happened?"

He gasped when auburn eyes met his, instead of bright crimson.

"What has happened my friend? Lucius... I have a son... an Heir."

The Dark Lord motioned for the Malfoy Patriarch to help him stand and Lucius complied quickly, his mind reeling.

The Dark Lord brushed his robes off, rubbing long pale fingers along his own temples once more.

"Severus.. Bring the boy to me."

The Potions Master hesitated only for a moment and walked slowly towards his Master, still whispering soothing words to his nephew. Harry had a tight grip on his black robes -making his knuckles white with pressure- and he was trying to take deep breaths.

"What has happened to the child Severus? He has blanked out everything between his last day of school and when he was healed by you."

The dour man took a deep breath and silently watched the Dark Wizard before him. "Tell me Severus! What has happened to my son?" His voice was harsh, making Harry flinch and he yet again tried to curl up in a ball - even in his uncles arms he tried to protect himself.

"Please Milord. The child needs rest... I will tell you everything, but the boy is not yet fully healed and he.. he is still in critical condition.." Severus' voice was soft and almost pleading as he unconsciously pulled Harry closer to his own body.

"Off course.. Toppy!" The house-elf arrived with a soft pop, bowing low to the floor, her nose touching the stone. "What can Toppy do for Master?"

"Fetch Healer Dowley and prepare a room. We will be having a guest" The Dark Lord drawled, his eyes never leaving Harry's face.

Lucius Malfoy was stunned. He had been calmly drinking his afternoon tea, enjoying a game of chess with his son when suddenly his world was spun around. The Dark Lord had a son? Harry Potter was the son of the Dark Lord..? How could this be? And why had Severus Snape been holding the child as if he was a precious piece of glass?

"My Lord? Forgive me for asking, but.. are you sure this is not just an elaborate scheme? How could Harry Potter be your son?" Internally Lucius was trembling as he asked the question, but the Malfoy mask was securely in place hiding his true feelings on the matter. He was sceptical of course, but even he had been appalled by the child and how frail he looked. _How did this happen? How could the old coot have let this happen to his Golden Boy?_

A sigh escaped the Dark Lord and Lucius was startled to see a fragile look in his Masters eyes. The Dark Lord never allowed his guard down around his followers and Lucius had not been privy to the intricate dealings of his mind for quite some time. His Master had only just been resurrected and restored to full corporeal form months ago, but the Malfoy Patriarch had not allowed himself to hope that he would ever have his old friend back.

"It would seem that the esteemed Headmaster is more of a madman than we had first suspected Lucius. He not only took my Lily from me, but stole away my son, giving the parental rights to another man. Lily never betrayed me like we thought. It seems she was already pregnant with my child when she was forcefully wed to James Potter. He is not a legitimate child, conceived in wedlock, but he is my son and Heir none the less."

"This is madness..." Lucius muttered to himself, thinking it all over. "What proof is there?"

Severus quickly produced his Pensive from his robe-pocket, enlarging it with a flick of his wand. "The testimony of the Sorting Hat Lucius. I witnessed it myself, but brought it along for you to see for yourselves." He pushed the object closer and waited patiently for both Lucius and his Master to watch the memory.

The Dark Lord sighed and leaned back in his chair when he had watched the memory, his long fingers rubbing along his scalp.

"I will have to do a Paternity-charm on the boy.. if all this is truth then.. We have much work to do my old friends. This new prophecy is something we will have to speak of further."

Their conversation was disturbed by the arrival of the Healer and the man bowed deeply to the Dark Lord. "How may I serve you today Milord?"

"Follow me Mr. Dowley." The Dark Lord rose from his seat, quickly gliding out of the room, robes billowing after him. He walked down the hall without looking back, knowing that the man would be hot on his heels. He entered the chamber his son had been brought to and found the child resting - slightly whimpering in his sleep. He went to the head of the bed and placed his hand on the boys hair, but snatched it back when the child cried out in pain. The scar on the teens forehead was opening to a small wound at his touch and he moved back to ease the child's pain.

"I need you to look after this boy Mr. Dowley. I trust you will make sure he is well taken care of and healed properly. He has been taken care of by my Potions Master and a mediwitch, but he is still in critical condition."

At the man's nod the Dark Lord moved out of the room, only stopping when he caught his own reflection in a hallway mirror. What he saw was startling. _How could I have let this happen?_

Sweeping into the room he found his followers talking in soft tones, but they stopped at his arrival. "I have seen to my sons health and I will be affirming the paternity when he is fully recovered. I need you to brew several nutritional potions, restorative potions and anything else the Healer might need in regards to the boy..."

The Potions Master nodded.

"Now tell me Severus, what has happened to my son to bring him in this condition?"

Severus closed his eyes and turned his head away, taking a harsh breath. "Perhaps.. perhaps it would be easier to show you My Lord."

The obsidian-eyed man brought his wand to his own temple, whispering a soft incantation to extract a silvery thread. He brought it to his pensive and at Voldemort's direction, both Severus and Lucius accompanied their Lord into the shimmering liquid.

They appeared at Hogwarts, specifically in Severus' study - the man in question seated in a comfy chair amongst several bookcases. He was intensely studying a potions journal, while sipping tea.

"Severus! What-..." Voldemort's angry voice was interrupted when an urgent and frightened voice shouted for the same man and they found themselves being shifted to a shabby living room filled with cats, yarn and quilts. They all followed the ghostly forms of a disillusioned Severus Snape and a tall, gangly ginger-haired boy, that Lucius angrily muttered was a Weasley.

"Hush Lucius!" The Dark Lord snapped harshly and they kept a steady pursuit.

They all wrinkled their noses at the sight of the murderously obese child lying in the doorway and Severus kept steady eyes on the ground, trying to keep still as his other self spoke to Petunia Dursley. Meanwhile Lucius and Voldemort observed the surroundings, both keeping an ear on the conversation. The home was sparkling clean and orderly, the surfaces gleaming and the walls filled with pictures of the large child who lay unconscious a few feet from them.

The next hour they observed as Severus struggled to save the small boy, frantically casting spells and pouring potions into his throat. The Potions Master felt the roaring rage from his Lord when flashes of magic poured into the surroundings only to be pulled back. He tensed when he felt a hand on his shoulder, but exhaled in relief when he felt Voldemort only give a squeeze in gratitude.

"I trust you still have the filthy Muggles in your possession Severus?"

"Yes My Lord. They are in my home, being guarded by the twins. They are waiting for word on Harry and myself."

"Good good. They shall be taken care of." Voldemort's voice was chilling and deceptively calm. Severus was thankful he was not on the receiving end of his Masters wrath.

When they heard the list of injuries spoken by the Hogwarts Matron they exited the memory.

Black tendrils of rage-filled magic whirled and both Lucius and Severus forced themselves to keep still. "The Mugglessss will die a sssslow death.. Torturessss unknown will be poured upon them in riverssss of blood. My sssson will be avenged." Bright crimson flashed in Voldemorts eyes, before settling on cold outraged auburn.

The three wizards seated themselves, all caught in outraged and grief-stricken thoughts.

Severus' voice cut through the silence. "I returned to Obliviate the old squib whose Floo-connection I used, since she is connected to the Order and I also went to check on the Golems left at the Dursley residence. They will keep for a few more days, but I believe another solution should be found quite soon before they disintegrate."

"All of my son's possessions have been recovered?" Severus nodded and the Dark Lord looked thoughtful for a moment. "The Muggle woman kept my son alive until help arrived, so she will be allowed to live. It will be up to my son what to do with her." He turned to Lucius, "The home will be burned to the ground. Bring a squad to the home and make sure it looks like an attack. Harry Potter is to be presumed dead, until we decide otherwise. My son will not have any more choices taken from him. Do not attract attention from the Muggles besides the fire. I'm quite certain that the old man has put several wards and other charms on the house to alert him of a breech."

"Excuse me My Lord?" a soft voice called from the doorway.

"What is it Mr. Dowley?" the Dark Lord snarled at the interruption. "This had better be urgent!"

"I have found something peculiar with the boy Milord.. I felt you should know that the child has several Dampeners put on his magic. He has a blood-glamour, a binding charm and on further examination he is suffering from severe brain-damage and I found layers upon layers of Memory charms..." the Healer looked frightened and slightly ill.

"I will need help Milord. I cannot break it all at this time and if the blocks on his memory are released all at once I fear the child may go into shock. I do not have the basic strength in my magical core to do it by myself." The Dark Lord was shaking with rage - not at the Healer or the boy, but at himself and the man who saw himself as the Light Lord.

"Lucius, Severus.. come with me. Follow me Mr. Dowley." He swept to his feet and all but ran to the room where his son rested. He traced the delicate features of his Heir's face with dark wine-red eyes, taking deep breaths to shield his company from the rage boiling right under his skin. _The old man will pay._

The next few hours were spent with unlocking and removing the blocks and glamours put on the boy. The wizards could not believe what Albus Dumbledore had done to this small teen. He was barely more than a child and he had seen too much, been through more than he should and he had been punished for things he had nothing to do with. The Dark Lord was cursing his own stupidity and his own rash decisions, Lucius was shocked and appalled and Severus.. Severus was relieved. He had been fearful that his Master would not listen to his pleas, but it seemed that everything would work out.

Harry was safe for now and mending from his ordeal.

Harry woke feeling odd. He was free of pain and felt lighter somehow. He cautiously stretched and sighed in relief when only a dull ache ran through his ribs and leg. He felt stiff, but he was no longer in acute pain. He took a deep breath, testing his ribs and spent a while just luxuriating in the feelings of relief and security.

Harry tentatively opened his eyes, but shook his head dismally. He still saw nothing.

"You have been unconscious for four days Mr. Potter." Harry tensed. He knew that voice.

"M-Mr. Malfoy?" the teen shrank back and tried to breathe slowly.

"Do not be alarmed. You are in The Riddle Manor and I was merely looking in on you. I shall have your uncle come and bring you something to eat." the man's voice was curiously soft and suddenly everything came back to Harry. The meeting with his father, the tortuous pain, the man's baffled expression, screams of agony and anger, Severus and his soft words..

"O-okay.." his voice trailed off and he heard a whisper of cloth moving and soft footsteps. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes Mr. Potter?"

"How is.. how is my father?" he was unsure how to ask, but gathered his fragile courage.

"He is confused and angered and concerned. It is.." Lucius seemed to catch himself. "He will be fine Mr. Potter, when we get to the bottom of all of this. I shall send Severus to see you."

Harry heard the door open and close and he snuggled into the sheets, breathing deeply. He had not been rejected or harmed beyond the first _Cruciatus_ curse and had obviously been healed.

"Harry? How are you feeling?" the raven-haired teen struggled to sit and tried to follow the sound of his uncle's voice. He felt a large hand land on his own and squeeze it.

"I feel better Severus. I still have a headache and my ribs hurt a little, but I feel better. Maybe a little hungry." He bit his lip, stopping himself. He did not want to be a burden.

"Toppy" a soft pop sounded and Harry heard the squeaking voice of a house-elf. "Would you bring us something for Harry to eat? Some juice and yoghurt, some fruit and some tea for me please."

Another soft pop and a few minutes later Harry was nibbling on a piece of melon. He ate as much as he could and accepted several potions from his uncle - rising his mouth with some sweet tasting juice.

"What happened Severus? Where is my father? Did something happen?" Harry was scared and worried that the man had changed his mind.

"The Dark Lord is looking through his library trying to find a way to remove or dampen your reaction to him being close. He attempted to touch you on the first day and your scar flared up. He is keeping his distance to keep from harming you."

Harry exhaled the breath he was holding.

"We have spent many hours trying to undo what Dumbledore has done to you. He had put several charms on your, dampening your magic, glamoured you and we even found a few binding spells on you. Most have been countered or broken, but we are still working on a few things."

"Glamours? You mean he changed how I look?"

Severus smiled slightly. "Yes Harry. You now look even more like your mother and.. even a little like me I am sorry to say. You still have your mother's eyes and you now have her curly hair. You have your fathers chin and nose."

Harry swallowed and once again cursed the Dursley's. _Now I don't even know what I look like. _The teen tried to visualize a young Tom Riddle with his mother's eyes and long curly black hair. _I wonder if I will ever see myself again?_

They spoke for a while about what happened after Harry fainted the day they arrived and Harry was shocked to find out that Voldemort seemed to have vanished and Tom Riddle had returned. The madness seemed to have dissipated and this relieved Harry. Perhaps he could even get to know his father.

A week passed and Harry was finally sleeping better. The nightmares had lessoned and he felt himself becoming stronger with each day. The shower he took on his first day out of bed was without a doubt one of the best and most satisfying ones of his life. The warm water had cleansed him and he almost felt like a new person as he dried himself with fluffy towels.

After yet another very warm shower Harry was leaving the bathroom, wearing only a towel around his waist when he froze, feeling another presence in the room.

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry Mr Potter, I will be right outside. Please call me back in when you are decent."

A door opened and closed and Harry tried to place the soft feminine voice, but it did not seem familiar. He quickly dried his hair and slipped into soft pyjama pants and a long sleeved shirt before calling the woman back inside.

"Ah, much better. I apologize for intruding, but I did not know you would be bathing. I don't know if you remember meeting me, but I felt I should introduce myself properly. I am Narcissa Malfoy."

The raven-haired youth remembered seeing a very pretty woman with a look of disgust on her face. "I remember. The Quidditch World Cup, you went there with Mr. Malfoy and Mal-.. Dr-Draco."

"Precisely. I was summoned here because My Lord tells me he now has a new charge. He tells me you have lost your eye-sight." At Harry's soft nod she continued "Well then.. I cannot imagine how difficult that would be. Is there anything I can help you with Mr Potter? Something you have any problems with or something you cannot find?"

Narcissa Malfoy carefully watched as the small boy shook his head. She tilted her head to one side before gliding towards the dresser beside the bathroom door. She picked up a hairbrush and tie then turned back to the frail looking child.

"You look so much like your mother Mr. Potter." her voice was whisper-soft and lovely. Harry gently smiled in gratitude. He felt a warm soft hand on his fingers and his hand was guided to an object he soon identified as a brush. "May I?"

Harry nodded and scooted forward. He felt the woman perch herself on the bed and soon felt soothing strokes de-tangle his hair. He hummed softly in appreciation and relaxed under the ministration of the Malfoy Matriarch.

"She was a lovely woman.. your mother.." a soft laugh tinkled from the woman.. "I say woman, but your mother was barely more than a school-girl when I met her. We spent hours working on charms and pouring over ancient tomes full of law. She was bright and inventive though. And she had countless ideas - so much drive. I remember when the Dark Lord met her. He was so enamoured with this young thing – so captivated by her mind, her bright humour and those amazing green eyes." Harry blinked away tears and smiled.

The woman sighed. "I wish I had more of a chance to know her. She brought a change to him – made him think of the future. Not only when it comes to his political stands, but also.. she gave him hope. She gave him something more to fight for. He truly saw a future when he looked into those eyes. His heart broke when she betrayed him -we all thought she had. It brought change to the Dark Order when it happened. He became ruthless and cold. His hope was taken away."

Harry shivered at the hollow tone of her voice.

"After a time none of us could recognize the Dark Lord. Lucius was once his closest friend and adviser and soon even he was frightened. The news of her pregnancy was what ended your father. Something died in him that day."

Tears fell silently from the teen's eyes as he listened to the story. Dumbledore had created all of this.

"My husband came home a few days ago and I swear I saw him smile. He told me that he saw a glimpse of his old friend. Perhaps having you – having a piece of Lily back and proof that she never betrayed him- will mend the broken piece of his heart. Perhaps you can give him back his hope."

They sat in silence after that, both caught in their own thoughts. Harry was enjoying the soft touch of warm fingers in his hair and his mind was racing with the possibilities. He could have a family.

"Would you tell me more about my mother some day, Mrs Malfoy?"

"Off course I would Mr. Potter. I believe we will see much of each other. Please call me Narcissa or Cissy."

"Then please call me Harry. I don't even think I am a Potter any more. I don't know _what_ I am any more.." Harry trailed off and took a deep breath to keep the tears at bay.

A knock on the door interrupted them and Harry tensed – something Narcissa noticed and she placed her hands on her shoulders to lend him some calm.

The door opened and Harry felt a flare in his scar.

"Father."


End file.
